Dying Star
by Stewart MacDonald
Summary: The glint of ice in a murders eye, As cold as the light from a dying star. Enter Legion, and abandon all hope.


**A/N: Everyone wonders about pure evil. The darkness, the anti-power to all that is holy. Something so purely opposite that it is gut wrenching. Something that will take your soul with syrupy lies and half truths. Something that seems so human, yet so wrong that it will send you hiding beneath your covers by thinking about it.**

**So here I go with a small story of Legion. A oneshot that may or may not disturb you. It takes place before Tears of Darkness, and after Shadowman. We're actually going to witness something extremely terrible. Warning right now; Spoilers for Tears of Darkness. Why? Could it be Legions true form is made visible? Read on and find out; if not, I commend you for quelling your curiosity and finding out while reading the other one. Except for Lisa, because you've seen him in the game.**

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**Dying Star**

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He sat, embraced in long shadows and the reek of blood. He sat, the oily steel of His rusted throne comforting Him. He sat, the blood that poured from His mouth painted His clothing and the floor below Him. He sat, one, but many. He sat, bathed in His own satisfaction, his own self assurance. It was not without basis. There were none who could oppose such strength. He had not fallen in battle; His only opponents had _thought_ He had. He had won, each time he Had been opposed, He had won.

A new world lay before Him, another He would lay waste to. Another world He would absorb into his very being and increase His already infinite power. He was an unbeatable strength. What was wrong with that? What was it that made Him so automatically evil? At the dawn of time, the Almighty One came into existence. The Heavenly Father, God.

God was pure good, a beacon of light for all, at least, in the dimension he was created to. However. Nothing can exist in such radiant waves of goodness without a counter factor. No, as soon as God came into existence, so did He. The world had no choice but to create the counter-force. However, in doing this it automatically gave the counterforce an advantage.

He was opposite. God ruled with honor, limiting his actions and not interfering with the life of his creation. However, Legion countered this by rampantly destroying the worlds and tainting their inhabitants. It was His duty. He had to admit , it was an amusing one. So He enjoyed it to the best of His ability. He was not spawned in Hell, in fact, He had no connections. People asscociate Lucifer with ultimate evil; but Lucifer had once been an angel. Legion had always been Legion. Being opposite, He could also leave the dimension he was created to, as he was doing now.

So now He was seated in his throne, his sweet, iron monstrosity. Rusted and bloodstained, it was home. The world He inhabited however; was not. He was in a dimension without a name; one out of God's reach. Another diety, or multiple ones, held sway here. Like the Lord, they did not interfere directly with the goings-on on their planets. It was a code they would regret.

There was no Michael LeRoi to stop Him, no Shadowman. No strength could scathe Him. As Legion stood, his zombie servants dressed Him for battle. His brown and blond hair, His ice cold blue eyes and His bleeding, grinning mouth were covered by a massive iron helmet, made out of some blood red metal. He held out His arms and they were dressed by His undead mind slaves. Iron gauntlets of that same crimson color adorned His powerful arms, which already crackled with power.

As the zombies backed up, Legion marvelled himself. He appeared massive, clad in the red battle armour. Though it had to be thousands of pounds, it did not weigh Him down in the least. He moved effortlessly to the far, grime streaked wall. His hand reached upward and gripped the hilt of a large obsidian halberd. The head was a cold steel, and etched with infernal runes.

As Legion gripped it it began to writhe, reality distorted it. In seconds it was over, and suddenly it was alight with bloody flames. Legion turned, and lashed out the weapon at the zombie nearest Him, and the axe head mashed into the corpse's ribs, bringing forth noxious stinking ichor. The zombie was then incinerated by the dark fire. Legion pierced the silence with a cold, curt laugh, and walked towards Asylums massive double-doors.

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The tanks rolled across the landscape as the troops assembled. General Currie stared out across the plains. "As you all know;" The forty year old general began his prep speech. "An unkown enemy has declared war upon us. In our small world of Zenogen, you men are all that we have. Our people have owned this planet! You are dominance! Any opposing party will be reminded of this."

The general paused and grinned. "Especially since they have not shown yet." There were laughs amongst the troops. It really didn't look as though there would even be a battle at all. "We'll give them half an hour." Currie joked. The troops were talking enthusiastically. Most were young, new recruits, and all of them had never been in a war. Zenogen had been peaceful for over a hundred years. It had recently been broken by the construction of a massive black base in the north.

The owner had no building permit, so police were called down. Their heads had been sent back, burned and mangled beyond recognition. So a whole team of S.W.A.T was sent down. The result was filmed. They were swarmed by unknown individuals, who appeared to be mottled green and clad in butcher smocks. They massacred the men, and seemed to pay little heed to pain. Every police officer was savaged with a meat hook, and then eaten alive.

The tape had been mailed back, with the declaration for war. The time and place had been a remote plain, far from any major cities. Regardless of the peace, Zenogen had a massive army. With no war, they had a lot of recruits. Hell, men in the army were kept fit, and it was a good line with the ladies. Now it seemed to be paying off. The Zenogen Army was being set up. A prank by a madman in a fortress no doubt. The government was debating just bombing the place.

Then there was the storm. Out of nowhere the massive black cloud ripped. It seemed to explode from the inside out of an existing cloud. There was a scream of thunder as literally black lightning raped the skyline. Currie stared in shock as something completely impossible occured. The ground about 10 meters away shook and turned to liquid.

It emerged, the massive nightmare building. Seeing pictures of the building from above was nothing compared to its presence. The fact that it had just ripped from the earth did not help matters at all. The soldiers had begun to flee. Some of them remained, but even as the door creaked open men were running for their lives. Perhaps it was best; what came next was worse.

Droves of corpses shambled from the gaping doors, some headless, some limbless. But they were all grinning, corroding skeletons. The men opened fire, and they toppled. However, every fallen corpse seemed to be replaced by ten more, and they were moving fast. However, not fast enough. The ground troops managed to mow down the last of them before they came.

Then He arrived, and the fate of Zenogen was sealed.

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The bullets streamed towards Him, but He did not falter. The bullets that made contact with Him melted before the impact could even scathe the armour. His minions died around him, but His gaze, cold as the light from a dying star, did not lower. And as He neared the men, He changed. He seemed to explode outwards, and His human form was cast off like a useless costume, red armour spraying everywhere.

He was massive, a writhing monstrosity. Small half circles like great, spiked wings sprouted forth from behind His demonic cranial structure. Leering silver eyes rested, glaring atop skeletal nostrils and a bloody, fanged mouth. He floated upwards, His muscular, alien body rippling with malicious energy. Below, Asylum dissapeared, leaving the damned world before it's destruction.

Soldiers died as their brains could not wrap around the incarnation of pure evil, and burst into streams of pink fluid which ran from their ears. Legion stared in contempt upon the scuttling, frantic beings below Him, obsolete to His fifty feet of wriggling, unmatched strength. Spines erupted from His sectioned body; as He had no limbs. The closest thing one could relate Him to would be a grand, perfect maggot creature. Powerful and evil beyond human comprehension.

"**_For we are many_**." He whispered, and noxious waves of black power radiated off of Him in deadly pulses. And soldiers were shredded into tiny strips of dust, blown away. In seconds, not a single soul remained upon the battlefield. Only empty tanks, and the great floating nightmare. Then, He began to exhale, and a sick, black dust ripped forth, waves upon waves of the gas hit Zenogen, and the result was unfathomable.

It ate the ground... Literally shredding it, reducing it to nothing but a crimson ash, which blew away into the wind. The o-zone around the planet began to implode, and the entire orb that had supported masses of life was going with it. Legion remained floating, His cold laughter rang out in the abyss of space as the planet was reduced to nothingness.

It did not stop their; Oh no. The center of power He had created while using His malicious power to implode the planet was sucking in more and more. More planets, and the fabric of that entire Universe. The entire dimension was being eaten alive by pure evil. Normally He did not be so direct about His power. It was much more amusing to take ownership of a land beforehand, and He enjoyed slowly deteriorating it, but in Zenogen's case... He needed a vent for His rage of being defeated by Michael LeRoi.

Now, everything was gone, sucked into the massive whirling darkness before Him. With a cackle Legion entered the great Helltex, the energy sucking magical vortex of His creation. It would deposit everything that entered it into the Nethermention, a realm filled with hideous atrocities. Of course, it was really a massive paper shredder, obliderating anything not alive and depositing all the humans into Nethermention, where they would witness terror beyond belief.

Legion used the Helltexes to travel back to Asylum, that timeless, locationless place of evil, forever floating amidst the worlds, where He could plot more worlds to engulf in nightmare.

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**A/N: So there it is. Not much, but enough. Drop your reviews, and stuff. **

**-Stewart MacDonald**


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